Indoctrination

Striking a blow for the Common Man, Rick Santorum stated, "President Obama once said that he wants everyone to go to college. What a snob. There are good, decent men and women who go out and work hard every day and put their skills to test that aren't taught by some liberal college professor trying to indoctrinate them."

Thanks for setting us straight, Rick. I was unaware that shipping off to college in America is not all keg parties and co-ed dorms but political indoctrination not unlike Chinese youth being sent to the countryside during Mao's Cultural Revolution. They must have edited the political indoctrination scenes out of "Animal House" and "Old School".

Actually, my decision to go to college was not a slam dunk. Fear of being brainwashed by a pointy-headed liberal professor really didn't enter into the equation. My choices as a high school grad in the summer of 1965 were:

Get a draft-deferred job at the artillery shell plant in town. Make more money than my Dad. Get my own car. Live at home with free room, board, and laundry service. Have a rip-roaring social life since few girls went away to college in those days.
2. Go to college. Have no money, no transportation, and at an all-male college with no fraternity rush until second semester, zero social life.

Taking a page from that education-loving snob Obama, my parents pushed me toward the groves of academia by getting me a summer job in the local meat packing plant. The "good, decent men who put their skills to the test" there made sure that the "college boy" got a snoot-ful of working life. Lifting and hauling 250 pound sides of beef? Let Joe College do it. Loading 400 pound barrels of beef onto the truck at the end of the day? I have a softball game at 5. The College Kid can work a little later. Somebody has to spend a couple of hours sorting 80 pound boxes in the -10° freezer? Young blood is warm blood. See you at lunch, kid.

Sudddenly, I could tolerate delaying a paycheck, a car, and a social life until after college especially if it meant that I wouldn't smell like a dead cow every day after work. Even the liberal political indoctrination was a small price to pay.

Vatican Tweets

I am not a Twitter guy. I doubt that my legion of "followers" want to know what I am up to at any moment or what my 140 character opinion is on any topic. Actually, I am embarrassed that my legion of followers probably consists of only my dog and his sole concern is when I'm going to fill his food bowl. "Who cares whether The Bachelor is a mindless mimbo (male bimbo)? Where's my kibble?" #TheDog

Apparently, Twitter is not only for the young and socially ambitious. The Pope is issuing a Twitter message each day during Lent at #Pope2You. Of course, Twitter is a two way street. Followers can respond to the Papal message. Here is our chance to receive an infallible answer to the questions that vex us. It's better than Dear Abby.

"Santorum is getting all the good buzz for opposing contraception and his general Catholicness. Can you give me a shout out? Hey, I'm Catholic now, too" From #NewtG.

"In the words of Doctor Evil (I love those Austin Powers flicks), Newt, you are the Diet Coke of Catholicism. One calorie, not Catholic enough. Two former wives doesn't help either." From Pope2You

"The Evangelicals are saying that my Mormonism is a cult not real Christianity. Can you straighten them out?" From #MittR.

"Don't panic, Mitt. The Book of Mormon is packing them in on Broadway. Our The Book of Saint Eligius flopped. People love you Mormons. Bring back Donnie and Marie and you are golden." From Pope2You

"The pundits ignore me and claim that I'm a wacky old guy with ideas from the 19th century. You're an old guy with ideas from the 1st century and they love you. What's your secret?" From #RonP

"The threat of excommunication helps. I miss the good old days of the Inquisition and burning at the stake though. The real secret is costuming. Show up at the next debate in gold brocade robes and a pointy hat and they won't ignore you anymore." From Pope2You

The Million Mustache March

Marching on Washington, DC has a long and proud tradition. Noble causes like womens' suffrage and civil rights sparked large demonstrations in our nation's capital. My only experience with DC protests came from the other side of the fence. We newly-minted Second Lieutenants from nearby Fort Belvoir spent a few evenings guarding the Washington Monument during the anti-war protests of the late 60s. "No, ma'm, our rifles do not have ammunition or firing pins. In answer to your other question, that large red brick building over there is the Smithsonian. Admission is free and it has the best rest rooms on the National Mall."

It took 45 years but finally there is a protest for me. The Million Mustache March will assemble in Washington in five weeks to demand a tax credit for hairy-lipped Americans. Taxpayers over 65 or blind get a break, why shouldn't those of us who have to be really careful when eating soup or blowing our nose? Argue that with mustachioed heroes like Chuck Norris or Tom Selleck if you dare.

The Mustache Exemption is not a simple tax dodge like a Cayman Islands bank account. It is not easy to grow a 'stache. In my teens and early 20s, my mother ("You'll look like the bad guy in the movies") and then the Army ("Only Commies like Stalin or Ho Chi Minh have facial hair") wouldn't let me grow one. In my mid-20s, I found that I couldn't grow a good one. Wispy blondish hair above the lip made me look more like a bedraggled alley cat than Burt Reynolds.

Then the Devil's Deal came into effect. As I began losing the hair on my scalp, my facial and body hair flourished. If I was in the mood for a Fu-Manchu or a Rollie Fingers handlebar, just give me a week and there it was. I have had facial hair ever since, more to divert attention from the lack of same above the eyebrows which achieved Andy Rooney caliber bushiness at about the same time.

Don't we deserve a tax break to assuage the painful mockery we receive? "There's something in your mustache, Baldy. Oh, it's your lip." "Storing some of that stew in your 'stache in case you get hungry later?"

Alas, the mockery will continue. The Million Mustache March is scheduled for Sunday, April 1, April Fools Day. It appears to be a cruel prank foisted upon us by the clean-shaven. And I was so looking forward to it.

Extenuating Circumstances

The big story on Sports Radio today is the dismissal of drug charges against National League MVP Ryan Braun. Ryan's original urine test bottle was picked up by Fed Ex but the driver was near the end of his shift on a Saturday and Fed Ex doesn't go out on Sundays so he kept it over the weekend. Was the driver simply negligent? Did he have an ulterior purpose? Does he have some sort of celebrity urine fetish?

At any rate, it cast sufficient doubt on the test that Ryan was exonerated.

Before we castigate the Fed Ex driver, let's consider extenuating circumstances. It's one thing to drive a truck full of "so important it's got to get there tomorrow" mail. It is another to ferry around a truck full of body fluids. These guys should get Hazardous Duty Pay. When Air Products initiated employee drug testing, they did it wholeheartedly. Several hundred employees were tested each day and all those little vials went out on the same Fed Ex shipment. What a joy it must have been to sit through a traffic jam on Route 22 with several gallons of urine moldering behind you.

Worse yet were the fecal blood test packets. Imagine delivering a sack full of days-old feces smears to the Testing Lab. That experience might traumatize even the most stable Fed Ex driver.

Let's not judge Ryan's driver too harshly.

Boredom

The school year will soon be over and parents will hear the whiny refrain, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do."

Oh, really, children of the Millennium? You have computers, video games, and all manner of hand-held devices that can take you on quests, into combat, or smack dab in the middle of a virtual world that you create. You have streaming access to just about any movie or TV show ever made. You have custom radio to suit your listening preferences. How could you ever be bored?

Being bored was much easier fifty years ago. Our childhood quests were in the pages of books, Our simulated combat involved running and hiding from our friends. Our virtual worlds were in our imaginations. We were stuck with whatever movie was showing at the neighborhood theater, which of the three network TV shows were broadcast at the time and whatever the local radio station decided to play. It took some effort to entertain ourselves and we had very limited choices.

Not to go all "Back in the day, we walked twelve miles to school through snowdrifts over our heads uphill, both ways", but may be it is better for kids to develop their own imaginations rather than rely on what some Playstation or X-box programmer came up with. Of course, you always run the risk of being bored by going it alone.

Gus, Meet Tony

The Pennsylvania Lottery gave the pink slip to Gus, its animatronic TV commercial spokes-character and "The Second Most Famous Groundhog in PA". At least Gus made it through Groundhog Day. Firing him before Feb 2 would be like Scrooge terminating Bob Cratchitt before Christmas.

The field is now open for a new Lottery Spokes-Character. Gus's replacement must typify Pennsylvania and have a tie-in to the state lottery. The Keystone State's most famous son is Ben Franklin. An animatronic Ben could fly his kite with a lottery ticket on its string and be showered in riches when it is struck by lightning. For those more in tune with current events, an animatronic Governor Tom Corbett could attach a lottery ticket to a fracking rig and find himself hip-deep in campaign contributions. Actually, Governor Tom doesn't need the lottery ticket as long as he doesn't tax the frackers. Still, neither Ben nor Governor Tom has a historical connection to the Lottery.

I know he is a Jersey boy, but the character most in tune with the Lottery's origins is Tony Soprano. The Daily Number and Pick 4 are direct descendants of organized crime's Numbers Racket back in the '50s. I used to wonder why the US Treasury Balance was prominently displayed above the fold every day on the front page of the Scranton Times. My more-worldly classmates explained, "The last three digits are today's number. Guess it and you get $500. You don't have to buy the paper to see it either."

The new PA Lottery commercials may feature an animatronic Tony generously showering riches on our senior citizens. "Remember the old days? Those old Numbers Slips are now Lottery Tickets and we all benefit!" And they said that history has no relevance today.

The Tournament of Fastnachts

Today is Mardi Gras. In New Orleans, there is drunken debauchery to jazz riffs. In Rio, there are parades and dancing to a samba beat. In Venice, there are masked balls to Mozart's music. Thousands of tourists flock to New Orleans, Rio, and Venice for this day. Hotels, restaurants, and bars are filled to capacity.

Here in the Lehigh Valley, today is Fastnacht Day. There is mass consumption of lard-fried, potato-based doughnuts to a polka beat. Hotels, restaurants, and bars stand deserted though there is a crowd at local Fire Stations to purchase those homemade fastnachts. How can the Lehigh Valley promote its Mardi Gras Tradition and bring in all those tourist dollars?

We aren't going to top the sexy costumes, masks, and dancing of New Orleans, Rio, or Venice. Let's copy the more wholesome New Year's tradition of Pasadena and institute the Annual Tournament of Fastnachts. We could parade floats down Route 22. Every float would be entirely covered with fastnachts in various hues, much like the Rose Parade floats are entirely covered in living vegetation. It's got to be better than eating the calorie-laden, semi-digestible things, doesn't it?

Gaily waving to the crowd from each float would be a member of the Fastnacht Queen and Her Court. Now, the Rose Queen is chosen for her looks and the arm strength (needed to continuously wave for hours on end). Our Fastnacht Queen would be chosen after a grueling round of fastnacht eating and doing the Chicken Dance. Put away a dozen potato doughnuts and still be able to Chicken Dance and achieve local immortality!

The Rose Parade features show horses bedecked in finery between the floats. The Lehigh Valley lacks equine quantity and quality to match California, so the Fastnacht Parade will feature packs of decorated motorcycles doing precision manuevers. This also saves on post-parade clean-up. Route 22 has many obstacles (potholes, tire treads, and trash). Let's not add horse droppings to the mix.

The Tournament of Roses concludes with the famed Rose Bowl football game. Alas, football season is three months past by Fastnacht Day. Quoits season is in full swing though and there's nothing that the Lehigh Valley loves more than quoits. Much like the Rose Parade ends at the Rose Bowl and spectators flock in to see what is in many years a championship college football game, our Fastnacht Parade could end at some bar in Easton where spectators would witness world-class quoits tossing.

Take that, New Orleans, Rio, and Venice! There's a new destination for Mardi Gras revelers right here in the Lehigh Valley.